Destiny
by Piper71
Summary: Her whole life she had been trained to die. Die for her family, die for her ancestors, and die for the future. Can she fulfill this destiny, or is she really destined to make her own decision, going against what she had always been told she was meant to d
1. Chapter One: The Prophecy

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Covenant, just what comes out of my imagination.

**Chapter One: The Prophecy**

John Grace pushed his wife's dark brown hair off her sweaty forehead, stroking the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb soothingly. It was the middle of the night, and the wait was finally over.

A clap of thunder outside caused the chandelier overhead to rattle, the crystal teardrops swaying back and forth and clinking together. The deafening noise caused a muffled gurgle to come from the bundle in the doctor's arms.

"Can I hold it?" Jonathan Peter Grace III asked, standing on tip-toes and tugging on the doctor's sleeve. "Please?"

"Johnny, shush." John hushed his son, unlinking his fingers from his wife's and walking over to the doctor. His eyes were wide and nervous, his whole body shaking slightly. "Well…is it a girl?" He asked eagerly.

The doctor, an aged man with crinkles around his bright blue eyes from smiling so often, mirroring his likeable personality, looked back at John through his spectacles. He held out his arms, the small bundle moving slightly.

"You have a beautiful, healthy…_daughter_, Mr. Grace." He said, smiling at the end.

Julia Grace collapsed back onto the pillows behind her, gasping in relief. Johnny hopped onto the bed and stood up, peering over his father's shoulder and trying to get a better look at his new baby sister.

John, void of any ability to speak, took the bundle of blankets from the doctor and held it close to his chest, looking down into his daughter's gorgeous navy eyes. A smile broke out across his face and tears of relief sprung to his eyes. For the first time in his entire life, he felt like he had done something right.

Glancing over at his wife, John walked back around the bed and knelt down on his knees, preparing to transfer their daughter to Julia's arms. Julia's dark brown eyes shifted to the baby, an uncomfortable look on her face.

"Our _daughter_." John said, stressing the word "daughter."

Julia swallowed and a slight look of disgust passed across her beautiful, tired face as the little girl in her husband's arms blinked up at her. "It's about time." Was all she said before turning onto her side and turning her back on the child they had both prayed would come for so long.

John stood up again, pulling the blankets closer around his daughter. He knew what came next, the moment that he had always dreaded even more than the possibility that this darling little girl would never come into his life.

Holding the bundle against him, John made his way through the big house, and down the stairs. The short journey down to the cellar and through the underground passage seemed to be even shorter than usual, with his heart pounding in his chest.

He stopped outside the stone room underneath the family's barn, not even flinching as fire burst out of the torches around the room, the candles lighting without a flick of his wrist.

The stone table in the center of the room, with the stone thrones placed in a perfect circle around it, lit up as well, the flame traveling across the outline of the star almost as if it were being dragged across. John glanced over at the bookcase and a book slid out obediently, flying unscathed through the fire and lying opened in the center of the enflamed star.

John walked to the main throne—the biggest and closest to the table of them all—and looked down at the opened page in the book. He didn't need to read it, really, since the directions had been drilled in his head for years and years, as well as the dread in his heart.

Looking across at the wooden cabinet against the wall next to the bookcase, John took a deep breath. Out of the cabinet came a stone bowl with a carefully placed top, as well as a shiny, polished knife, the jewels on the handle gleaming in the firelight.

John set the bowl and knife on the small stone table-like fixture next to his chair, removing the lid and picking up the knife, feeling the outline of the jewels on the inside of his palm.

John slowly unwrapped the wiggling child in his arms, and carefully laid her down on the table, being sure to first spread out the blanket so that the stone would not send chills through her tiny body. He picked up her small arm, rubbing his thumb over the soft inside of her forearm and causing a gurgling sound to spurt out of her rose-colored mouth.

John forced himself to look at his daughter's face, and his heart broke when he saw her blue eyes dancing and the content smile on her face. He felt horrible, knowing what this act would do to her; knowing what she was destined to do. To _be_.

And then John remembered his own destiny; and it fulfilling that destiny relied on what he was about to do.

John leaned forward and kissed his daughter's forehead lightly, squeezing his eyes shut as he sat straight again and lifted his hand that held the sacred knife. Holding out her small, warm arm, he slowly brought down the knife.

Her wailing echoed around the room, making it sound like a thousand babies were being hurt, and if John wasn't already past determination, he would have stopped. Every muscle in his body told him to stop, but it was over before he could help himself. And as John watched the thick, dark red liquid drip down into the bowl of Holy Water, one drop spreading out and staining the clear liquid immediately, he felt relief wash over him.

His entire life had been leading up to this point, and now, as the flames around him greatened, nearly reaching the ceiling and causing the entire room to heat up like the inside of an oven, John knew it was all worth it.

Everything that his ancestors had been working toward was resting on his shoulders—or really, his daughter's shoulders, as small as they looked now—and with that one cut, that one stream of wails, and that one drop of blood, everything was going to go into action now. The past years had been like a training session, and now it was all being put to good use. Their revenge was going into action.

The book raised in the air, above the dancing, angry flames, the words John had memorized long ago glowing like they were on fire themselves. John stood, not even hearing his daughter's cries anymore, his eyes following the words across the paper.

_A daughter with the power to end the war that was forged five-centuries ago will be born as the haunted tenth month begins. She will be marked as the most powerful of all descendents of the Power and has the ability to win the war to the advantage of the family, or the Covenant of Ipswich. The war will end in her death._


	2. Chapter Two: Trained to Die

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Covenant. Only what comes from my own imagination and what is obviously not from the movie.

Thoughts raced through her head as she carried clothes from her bureau to her trunk, a knot in her stomach. The trunk was almost bursting; filled with almost all of her most important belongings.

She was leaving tomorrow.

It was finally time for her to live up to the prophecy; make her family proud of her. But as she sat down on the edge of her bed and stared at the trunk, all she could think was that it was time for her to die. _Die_. She had been living her whole life to die, and the worst part was that she knew it.

It wasn't a normal knowledge, like most people had. Of course she was going to die; everyone did. This was a different knowledge, one that came from a prophecy. She had accepted her fate long ago, when her powers first came into her life, but now that the time had come for the plan to actually happen, she was beginning to have her doubts.

"Arianna? Are you in here?" Her father's knock pushed the door that had previously been ajar, open all the way and he smiled at his daughter. "Are you okay?" He asked, concern sprouting on his face, knowing what his daughter looked like in distress.

Arianna had never been able to hide anything from her father. She nodded and forced a smile. "Just thinking." She promised, standing up and walking over to kiss her father on the cheek. She spotted the folder he was carrying in his hand, sparking her curiosity. "What's that?"

"Ah," John said, holding up the folder and smiling, "these are your subjects. Or…_targets_, I guess you could call them."

Arianna raised her eyebrows and watched her father walk over to her desk, pulling a few thick pieces of paper out of the folder and spreading them out facedown on her desk. She followed him and stood staring at the blank sides of the paper, wondering what could be on the other side.

"Caleb Danvers." John stated, turning the first piece over to reveal a picture of a young and very handsome boy with dark hair. He had a serious look on his face, but his eyes were not directed at the camera, cluing Arianna in on the fact that these pictures were probably taken against his knowledge. "He Ascended three and a half months ago. The oldest of the brothers and very smart."

Arianna bit her bottom lip, studying the boy. _Smart, huh?_ And for a moment she panicked, wondering if she wasn't cut out for the task she was given. What if these boys outsmarted her? Four against one was a very big disadvantage on her part.

"Pogue Parry." John turned over the next photograph. This one was of another good-looking boy with long hair that curled over the collar of his leather jacket. He was straddling a yellow motorcycle, smiling handsomely at someone with their back to the camera. At the left corner of the picture, was the stem of a branch, with a single leaf on it. Evidence that these pictures were definitely not posed for. Arianna could just imagine a hired photographer hiding in the bushes taking pictures of these boys that could decide Arianna's future.

"Reid Garwin." The next picture was of a boy with striking light blond hair that fell in a shock across his forehead. He was sitting on a stone wall, one leg pulled to his chest with his hands locked around it, and the other sitting flat on the ground.

"And, last, but not least, Tyler Sims. The baby." John flipped over the last photograph and stood back to let Arianna take a look. Tyler was sitting at a table in what Arianna took to be the library, books spread out all around him and a tired look on his attractive face. He looked the most innocent, the easiest to get to trust her.

After taking a long time to go over each picture several times, Arianna turned and faced her father, crossing her arms. "Any ideas?" She asked hopefully. She wanted to know that someone was going to be there; supporting her.

John sighed, passing a hand over his tired face. Not for the first time, Arianna realized how old her father was getting. Well, not _old_, but tired. He seemed so exhausted lately, smiling even less than she did, and she had her death looming before her.

John had always been a handsome man, with a nicely sculpted jaw and prominent features. He had aged well, the salt-and-pepper hair suiting him well. But it wasn't just the fact that John seemed to _look_ tired, he was also acting it. He was spending more and more time in his study, or down in the cellar going through the Book of Prophecies. In a way, that book was dedicated to her. It had less to do with prophecies, and more to do with _her_ prophecy, and how she was to go about fulfilling it.

"Well…it's up to you. If you think you can get all of them to trust you, go for it. The more the better. But, seeing as there are aspects working against you in the other three, work your hardest to get in with Tyler. He's vulnerable." John advised, taking a seat at the cushioned bench at the foot of Arianna's bed.

Her brow furrowed. "What aspects?" She inquired, pulling the chair to her desk out and turning it around so that she could sit and face her father.

"Caleb, as I said, is very smart. A good guy, but not as easy to manipulate as he might seem." John told his daughter. "Pogue would be easy seeing as he isn't very intelligent, but he's not trusting at all. He has a very strong sense of judgment; almost always knows when someone promotes a threat to him or any of his friends. You should be careful with him; always be on your best behavior where he's concerned. Reid is…well, he's a trouble-maker, really. The most lax with his powers, Using right out in the open, and often times to impress a girl. I would say he's too unpredictable for you to try with. He could change his mind on you at anytime, deciding you are not worth his time. Tyler, on the other hand, is the baby of the bunch and susceptible to manipulation. _But_ when someone betrays him, he's done. He won't trust them again; so you have to be careful with him, too."

Arianna, feeling a little winded, closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, tilting her face to the ceiling of her room. "Why are they all so complicated?" She groaned, dragging a hand over her face.

"Aria, don't underestimate your natural powers." John said calmly to his distressed daughter.

Arianna leveled her eyes with her father's matching pools of navy. "I don't want to have to Use to get this done, Dad." She said firmly to him. In order to prove—more to herself than anyone else—that she was really capable of the challenge, she had to do this as Arianna, not as one with Power.

"I'm not talking about that, Aria. I'm talking about your _natural_ powers. Not the ones that you came into at thirteen; the ones you were _born_ with. You can be very persuasive." John told his daughter, adding a wink as he stood up and walked to the door. "You can do this, Arianna."

Nearly two hours later, Arianna, overcome with frustration and impatience, fell back against her pillows, bumping the back of her head against her headboard. "Ow," she whined, reaching to her head to check for blood. Seeing her hand clear, Arianna sat back into her previous Indian-style position and let her eyes fall across the scattered pieces of paper lain across her bedspread.

Arianna had discovered a packet of papers in her folder with a little bit of background information. To her dismay, most of it was just the summary her father had given her about the boys, with a few more details. She learned when each boy Ascended; only two were left to go: Reid and Tyler.

The thing that most caught Arianna's eye was the fact that Caleb's father, who had aged disgustingly in a short amount of time to the point where he didn't even look human any more, had given up his power—and his life—to save his son in an incident that had happened back in October, around the time that she had turned seventeen, in fact.

The fifth family from the famous Covenant had returned to avenge those who had turned their backs on them. The reality that the brothers—or really, only one of them—had defeated someone who had grown accustomed to Using a lot at one time, and with double the power, sent chills up and down Arianna's spine.

She had been trained her whole life how to Use her dark magic both affectively and secretly, but she wasn't sure she was a match for this group of boys. The prophecy said that Arianna was more powerful than anyone in her family line, but so far she hadn't seen anything to verify that.

The only thing that set Arianna apart from her older brother, Johnny, was the fact that she had nightmares. Horrible, frightening, realistic nightmares that were usually extremely violent and brutal, causing Arianna to wake up in a cold sweat.

And in Arianna's eyes, the nightmares were more of a weakness than an advantage. The part that scared her the most was that she didn't even know who the people in her dreams were—could never see their faces clearly—but she cared about them so deeply it hurt. She would Use until she was overcome with exhaustion, getting hit back with powers so strong, and that was when she usually woke up panting and gripping the sweat-soaked sheets.

"You all ready to go?" Arianna's brother Johnny's voice came from the doorway. Arianna jerked her head to look at him, caught by surprise. He stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, a familiar smirk on his face.

"Yeah," she answered, gathering the papers and photographs on her bed before her and shoving them back in the folder.

"I'm gonna miss my little sister." Johnny said, walking into the room and reaching forward to ruffle Arianna's hair a bit too harshly. The act may have seemed brotherly, with a disclosed love behind it, but Arianna knew better. Johnny had been bitter about her powers and her place in the family ever since she could remember.

Although he had never stated it aloud, she could only imagine how long he had been waiting for this moment in their lives; the time when she would leave them all forever, performing her duty and then disappearing as if she never even existed.

"Sweet," she grumbled sarcastically, ducking under his arm and out of his grasp. She knelt on her knees before her over-stuffed trunk and pulled at a tiny, barely-noticeable piece of ribbon tucking into the top inside corner of the lid of the trunk. This unlatched the cushioned layer of velvet that lined the inside of the trunk, revealing a hidden compartment that was perfect for storing the folder that if discovered could destroy everything she had been working for.

"You're nervous." Johnny stated, lounging back on her bed comfortably. "I can tell."

Arianna glared at the lining of the trunk as she pushed the velvet back into place, as if it was the thing that was taunting her. "I am not." She said in a low voice.

Johnny chuckled. "No need to lie, baby sister. I know you better than that; you aren't so sure you can go through with this."

Arianna stood and crossed her arms. "Get out." She snapped, her eyes flicking over to the door.

Johnny leapt off the bed, a content grin on his face. "I knew you were too weak. Too _nice_. You can't be afraid to hurt those people, Aria."

Arianna's dark blue eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm _not_." She said, and immediately asked herself why she bothered defending herself against her brother. But she couldn't help it; her entire life she had felt inferior to Johnny, despite the truth that she was more powerful and held a higher and more important position in their family.

"Dad says the only way to get them to trust you is to get close to them." Johnny said slowly, as if contemplating the possibility of this happening. He picked up a framed picture of John holding a four-year-old Arianna up on a big horse and rapped his knuckle against it. "But the way I see it is that there's no way of you getting them to trust you without you trusting them in return."

Arianna ripped the photograph out of her brother's slimy hands and set it carefully back down on her bedside table. Looking down at the horse that had mothered her own baby, Caramel, it reminded her that she still had to take one last ride. This brought a painful lump to her throat, and she drew in a deep breath.

"That's not going to happen, Johnny. I'm stronger than you think."

Johnny smiled at his sister and headed toward the door in his lolloping swagger. "I guess we'll find out, huh?"

Arianna watched her brother pull the door closed behind him, his dark brown eyes mocking her, and once she was alone again, she slid to the floor, leaning back against her bed and breathing deeply.

Why did he do this? Why did he _always_ manage to do this to her?

"I'm sorry." Arianna whispered, stroking Caramel's silky honey-colored mane. Caramel snorted in response, whipping his head away from her. Arianna's heart clenched inside her chest in pain; Caramel always knew when she was upset. But this was more than that; he knew she was leaving. And somehow, he knew she wasn't coming back.

"I said I was sorry." Arianna said firmly, sliding down from the saddle and gripping the reins, forcing Caramel to face her. "I'm going to miss you."

Caramel grunted very quietly, and then nudged her cheek with his nose, resting it on her shoulder as she ran her fingers across his neck. Pulling a freshly skinned carrot out of her back pocket, Arianna glanced up at the sky.

As she had many other times, she could see the bright orange sun peeping at her over the trees at the horizon. Cursed with insomnia from the many burdens that weighted her down, Arianna had spent many long hours of many nights riding to the meadow that lasted for many acres on her family's property and ended at a river which Caramel could drink from, and if it was a warm summer night, Arianna could swim in.

It was a cold January night, though, and Arianna had rode down to the river with a stable blanket wrapped around her.

Whenever the sun started to come up, Arianna knew it was time to go back home and crawl into bed, pretending that she had been sleeping for hours. So, after riding back to the stables and spending a few short minutes saying goodbye to Caramel—almost bringing tears to her eyes; _almost_—Arianna hurried back inside and into her room.

So, it was time. Arianna was dressed and sitting on her neatly made bed by the time her father came and knocked on her door. He opened it and looked down at her, sadness clear in his dark blue eyes.

Without a word, Arianna rose to her feet and walked past him, out into the hallway and down the stairs. Her mother stood at the front door with her brother alongside, not even bothering to hide his eager smile.

"Bye, mother." Arianna said, standing before Julie Grace with her shoulders squared. Arianna and her mother had _never_ had a close relationship. Julie seemed to look at her in disdain, as if her only purpose being on the planet was to die for her kind, and then be gone. Arianna had convinced herself years ago that the reason her mother was so distant and cool towards her was because she didn't want to grow attached to something that was going to be taken away from her some day.

However, looking into the dark brown eyes that had always seemed to look right through her, Arianna couldn't believe that her mother loved her deep down. There was nothing in her eyes. No heartache, no sadness…not even a trace of guilt. They were stoic and almost glazed over, as if this departure was just a waste of her time.

"Goodbye, Arianna." Julie stated, her accent thick and sharp. "Do not disappoint us."

Then Julie inclined her blond head forward, pressing her smooth cheek against her daughter's, not risking smudging her neatly applied lipstick by kissing her. And then she was stepping back, allowing Johnny his chance to say his last words to his sister.

"Don't do anything stupid." Johnny said, nudging Arianna's arm with his fist roughly. She rolled her eyes and hugged her brother, closing her eyes and pretending that he was the type of older brother a girl could miss. But when she opened her eyes and looked back up at Johnny, she didn't feel a trace of sadness at never seeing him again.

John walked his daughter out to the car, feeling the same way he had on the night of her birth when he had drawn the knife across her flawless skin, blemishing it forever and starting the whole ordeal. He felt—and not for the first time—if he had just hidden her, pretending the prophecy was wrong and that no daughter had ever been born, Arianna wouldn't be walking to her death now.

He knew in his heart that it was necessary, though. They needed her to complete this mission, to right the wrongs that had been sent their way so long ago. Even before the Witch-hunting in the seventeenth century in England and France, the war had been going on. That was what had led to the prosecution of so many good people in the supernatural community; exposing those with Power.

There was no exact date to when the Power first came to be, but there are rumors of documents hidden around the world about people performing supernatural acts back in Biblical times. And, according to his father, and his grandfather and all of his ancestors as far back he could imagine, the war had been going on since the beginning.

And now, as John hugged his thin, lithe daughter, who seemed so fragile and incapable of performing such a task in his arms, he knew this war was about to end. John forcefully reminded himself that his daughter's death was in the end going to save many lives.

John kissed Arianna's dark head and closed the car door after she settled onto the seat inside, waving goodbye as the car pulled out of the driveway and disappeared around a bend.

The wind picked up and ruffled John's hair as a few light raindrops scattered the ground he was standing on. John knew she was upset; the weather always told her secrets.


	3. Chapter Three: Nice Guys

Sighing, Caleb Danvers shrugged out of his school blazer and draped it over the back of his chair before sinking into it. Every year, Winter Break seemed to get shorter and shorter. It seemed like just yesterday he was sitting in this same seat in the same classroom, looking around at the same familiar, bored faces of his peers.

Spotting his friends Pogue Parry and Tyler Sims enter the classroom, Caleb's face took on a look of acknowledgement and he lifted a hand and waved. Both boys gave half-hearted nods back at him, even less excited than he was to be back in school.

Tyler made his way to an empty seat a couple across the isle from the one Caleb was sitting at, and a few rows back in the tiered-fashioned room, and Pogue plopped down next to Caleb. The same seats they always sat in, day after day, even without assigned seats.

Reid Garwin, another brother from the Covenant, slipped into the classroom just as the bell was ringing, beating the teacher by a few seconds. He took the steps two at a time and slammed down in the seat next to Tyler, groaning his frustration.

"That break was a good five minutes." Pogue complained to Caleb.

"Try five seconds." He corrected, chuckling slightly.

Pogue smiled and shook his head. Caleb had to admit, though, it was almost good to get back into the regular routine. After his father's death from willing his Power over to Caleb, his alcoholic mother had taken a turn for the better. It was her, Caleb later learned, that convinced his father to do the deed in the first place. She had been going to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings ever since that night that Caleb almost died himself in the old Putnam Barn, fighting someone who threatened not only him, but his family, friends, _girlfriend_ and the three-hundred-year-old secret that kept him and his friends alive.

Ever since they were kids, Caleb had been the closest to Pogue in their little group. He didn't know what it was that separated the group into two separate sections, but it had always been that way. Mostly, it was due to the fact that Caleb and Reid didn't get along for the most part. When it came down to what really mattered, they always had each other's back no matter what. But during the times when it didn't really matter, they were near enemies.

Caleb didn't like the way Reid walked around as if he owned the world, treating his Power like there were no consequences. Reid didn't like the way Caleb took control, saying his wasn't his job to be the boss of them all. But Caleb knew that if he wasn't around to knock some sense into his friend every once in a while, Reid would go over the edge. He was already teetering there, on the brink of addiction.

In a way, Pogue and Tyler were like the middlemen—the only things standing in between Reid and Caleb tearing each other's heads off at times. Pogue kept Caleb's anger and fatherly-like attitude towards Reid in check; telling him when to chill out and sometimes having to use force to get him to back off.

Tyler balanced out Reid's strong personality; if Reid was hard-headed and stubborn, Tyler was a loveable push-over and complete gentleman. While Tyler kept to himself and his close friends most of the time, a little shy around the ladies, Reid was the exact opposite—going after anyone and everyone who caught his eye.

Caleb was caught glancing up at Reid, who shot him a glare before dropping his chin onto his folded arms on the tabletop, flicking his eyes to the board. Sighing, Caleb faced forward again; another fight had occurred between the two of them last night. Another stupid, pointless fight that both of them refused to back down from.

The teacher—Mr. Logan—slammed the classroom door closed, announcing the beginning of class and the detention sentence for anyone who hadn't made it to class before the door was closed. Almost everyone in the class knew from experience that if Mr. Logan's door was closed when you reached the classroom, you were better off not showing up at all, and instead making up the time you missed in detention after school.

Even Reid had learned after several detentions that it was just better to run through the halls, even though it was practically the crack of dawn and he was still half-asleep.

As Mr. Logan started droning on about the Revolutionary War, most of the class dazed off. Caleb started doodling on the margins of his notebook, at least attempting to make it look like he was paying attention, Pogue began texting his girlfriend Kate on his cell phone under the table, Reid had fallen asleep almost immediately, and his mouth hung open as his head lolled to the side, and Tyler was actually scribbling down bits of what Mr. Logan was saying, in case any of it was going to be on his deadly final.

There was a loud noise at the door, and as most of the class glanced over, dark hair was seen flying past the small thin window. Everyone sat up a little straighter as the dark head reappeared in the window, falling over the owner's face, and a knock was heard against the wood.

Mr. Logan sighed loudly and looked over at the door before walking over and yanking the door open. "You're late."

"I know," the girl panted, her face slightly flushed from the mad dash she had obviously just taken. "I got lost…I'm new here?" Her comment was posed more as a question, as if she was unsure of this little fact.

Mr. Logan stared at her through his intimidating gray eyes, but she didn't seem all that affected by his cold glare. "What's your name?" He demanded.

"Arianna Dalton." The girl said, readjusting her books against her hip.

Her dark hair was a wild mess, her disheveled curls tossed all over the place. She sported a white long-sleeved T-shirt under the uniform blue sweater vest and her plaid blue skirt was twisted, the side zipper in front.

"Ah, yes, I remember." Mr. Logan said, giving in. "Take a seat, please. And next time…don't be late."

Arianna nodded dutifully and then scanned the room with her eyes, entirely aware of the twenty pairs of eyes all set on her. Finally, she started up the stairs, causing Reid to jolt and sit up as she walked past him and took a seat in the chair behind Tyler.

Reid shook his head in annoyance at being disturbed and then settled his chin back against his arms, his eyelids drooping for several moments before falling closed completely.

"_Dude_," Pogue said to Caleb, turning his head back to his friend and away from the new classmate.

Caleb didn't need to hear anymore to know what Pogue's thoughts on the girl were; it was obvious that she was attractive. "I know," he said, nodding.

Pogue might have had wandering eyes, but the second his cell phone vibrated in his hand, alerting him that he had a new message from Kate, his thoughts were instantly turned back to her; he was a good boyfriend, even if he liked to check other girls out every once in awhile.

Caleb was a little different. Sure, he wasn't so blinded by his own girlfriend's beauty that he didn't see the beauty that lay in other girls, but he accepted it and moved on. If Caleb wanted to be able to check out other girls, he wouldn't be with Sarah anymore. He was happy—no, more than happy—with what he had and he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that.

When the bell rang at the end of class, it didn't take long for the students to leap up and bolt out of the classroom, eager to get to a more enticing class, at the least. The four friends met up at the doorway and strolled through the halls together, taking up their usual routine.

"Dude, that class is so _boring_." Reid complained, tugging at his blond hair.

Caleb smirked. "You weren't awake for more than five minutes, Reid." He said in amusement.

Reid rolled his eyes. "Five minutes too long." He said, his eyes following a girl a year younger than them with breasts way too big for her small body as she walked shyly past him, her books held close to her disproportionate body. Then, turning back to his friends, Reid's sharp blue eyes fell on Pogue's fingers as they flew across the keypad on his phone.

The only way Pogue wasn't running into people by his lack of attention, was because they all darted out of his way just in time. Pogue was the type of guy that could intimidate almost anyone—even in school uniform.

"You are so _whipped_, man." Reid said, laughing.

Pogue glanced up, his eyes flashing a warning at Reid. "Not whipped," he argued, "it's called being in love."

Reid gave a visible shudder at the word, shaking his head. "Sorry, that word isn't in my vocabulary." He said, making Tyler laugh and Caleb smile in amusement.

"Reid only knows about lust." Caleb stated, watching as his friend checked out another girl. "How's that working out for you, by the way? The whole badass, serial dater thing? Going well?"

Reid shot a look at his taunting friend. "Going fine, thanks. _Great_, actually. Probably getting more ass than you." He scoffed, sliding his hands into his pockets, slouching as he walked.

Caleb shook his head. Reid never quit. "Hey, Ty, we have Ceramics now, right?" He asked, changing the subject.

Tyler nodded, lifting his eyes from the fresh schedule he had on the front of his book. The new semester classes were throwing him off of his usual track. Some of their classes stayed the same, because they were year-long, but the electives changed by semester.

"Oh, hey, me too!" Reid said suddenly, pulling his crumpled schedule out of his back pocket. Pogue tossed a goodbye over his shoulder as he went off to find Kate at her locker and walk her to her next class, and the rest of the brothers continued on down the hall to the Ceramics classroom.

Caleb noticed when they first walked in that the girl from their AP U.S. History class was sitting on a stool at a table, her head bent over a notebook as she scribbled something down.

"Reid!" Ms. Daughltry—the young, pretty Ceramics teacher—called, wiping her clay-covered hands on her apron and walking away from the bowl she had been shaping. "Nice to see you again."

Reid grinned, loving the attention from the teacher that had all the boys talking. "Good to see you too, Ms. Daughltry; how was your break?"

Caleb and Tyler exchanged disbelieving looks—was there anyone Reid _wouldn't_ flirt with?—and then took seats at the table next to Arianna. She glanced up when they sat down, and then did a double take before dropping her pen on her notebook and sitting straight on her stool.

After several moments of silence, where the two boys watched their friend interact with the blushing teacher, Arianna spoke up in a smooth, surprisingly confident voice.

"Is that your friend?" She asked, and when Tyler and Caleb looked at her, she nodded in Reid's direction.

Caleb chuckled. "Depends what day." He said, causing her eyebrows to raise.

"Reid's a handful sometimes." Tyler clarified and Arianna nodded, a shadow of a smile appearing on her face.

"I'm guessing he'll be getting an A in this class." She said and both boys laughed.

"He probably won't even need to show up—which is most likely his plan." Caleb said.

Arianna shrugged, picking her notebook up and closing the cover over the writing. "If it works, why not go for it?"

Tyler studied the girl, trying to decipher her unusual accent. It was European, but very faint. If he hadn't been paying attention, he probably wouldn't have picked up on it at all. He couldn't help but be impressed by her indifference towards Reid. Most girls fell all over the guy, barely even noticing the way he would make fun of them, or make fools out of them. As long as he smiled while he did it, he would still be their Golden Boy.

"That's Reid's motto," Caleb said with a chuckle. He remembered harshly that sometimes this motto didn't work out according to Reid's plan, not that he cared all that much anyway.

"We haven't even met and you're already talking about me?" Reid smirked at the girl, sliding onto a stool across the table from her.

Arianna gave him a close-lipped smile, the corners of her mouth just barely curving up. "Just observing you charm the teacher—nice work, by the way. She's blushing."

Reid glanced over his shoulder at Ms. Daughltry, who was marking something in her grade book. Sure enough, her pale cheeks were covered in a soft pink glow. Reid shrugged, turning back to Arianna. "Every woman needs a little special attention sometimes." He said with a half-smile.

Arianna raised her eyebrows and nodded. "I guess you're right…but not all women need that special attention from someone like you."

Reid didn't have time to respond, because Ms. Daughltry started speaking at that moment, and after a few minutes, Reid glanced over at Arianna to continue their bantering despite the fact that the teacher was talking, but she was staring straight at the teacher, not even noticing that he was watching her.

At the end of the class, Arianna bolted out of the classroom as quickly as possible, bumping her shoulder on the doorframe on her way out. Reid fell into step with his brothers as they exited the classroom at a leisurely pace and scratched his chin.

"So…who is she?" He asked.

"Arianna…she was in our History class as well." Tyler informed him, searching for his math homework in his notebook.

Reid groaned in annoyance. "I hate how the hot girls always have to have all the attitude." He complained and Caleb snorted.

"And how the guys like you have all the ego?" He suggested in amusement.

Reid puffed up his chest. "There are no guys like me; I'm one-of-a-good-looking kind."

Caleb rolled his eyes. "You wish, Garwin."

Arianna slammed the stall door closed and sat down on the closed toilet lid. Her first encounter with the boys and her heart was already beating twice as fast as it usually did. It was easy thinking of them less as people and more as a mission when she wasn't face-to-face with them. Caleb and Tyler seemed so kind and open. Reid seemed so…well, it didn't really matter how Reid seemed. Arianna had already decided she was going to have to go after Tyler.

She took a deep breath and pressed her fingers into her closed eyes. It would be so much easier if they weren't nice. If they were assholes then Arianna would have no problem completing the task. Douche-bags weren't worth a hesitation when it came to her own life. But Arianna found it hard to be selfish when it came to nice guys.

She needed to talk to her brother. He had a way of making her hate everyone.


End file.
